Cut Ties, Broken Hearts
by The Famous Fire Lady M
Summary: Sequel to Open Doors Hans has been distant and always away from home. Elsa is starting to worry he's conducting an affair. But something violent is bubbling under the surface of the peaceful idyllic kingdom, and will Arendelle's royal family be able to handle it? Helsa, Kristanna, slight Kristoff/Elsa
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I know I said I wouldn't be writing any more of this big fic but I got roped into it by the one who first inspired the prequel so, I guess I'm back, my darlings. Reviews mean the world to me, and keeps the engine chugging along. This time we're going for a loop. Hold onto your seats!  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Frozen, don't work for Disney and this is a not for profit fanwork. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

"Petra, darling, your father has business elsewhere." Elsa cast a withering look at her husband over her shoulder as he readied his travel bags.

"But it isn't fair! It's my birthday, and I want him to stay home!" The seven year old stomped her feet, already beginning to sulk.

"He's very busy, you know that." Elsa found herself watching how Hans did not even cast a guilty glance in their direction, as she attempted to placate the child.

"He's never home long enough though, Mumma.. Couldn't you make him stay?"

"I.." Elsa brought her hand to her throat, half afraid she would give in, and even more fearful that Hans would refuse.

That was when Hans at long last looked their way. His gaze locked onto hers for a beat, and then she tore her eyes away to compose herself.

"Petra, he's a busy man. Isn't that right, darling?" She caught his gaze once more as the servants began to load his bags into the carriage waiting outside.

"Of course." Hans absently waved a hand, to direct the servants.

"He'll be gone for quite a while this time." Elsa added through early gritted teeth, the bitterness not going unnoticed by the child.

"Mumma—?" The child's green eyes were fixed on her emotional mother's face.

"Petra, sweetheart, go play with Gunter for a bit. Your father and I need to talk." Elsa put her fingertips to her left temple, one arm still crossed over her chest.

Petra's eyes grew wide. Whenever they needed to talk, it was always something important, and the way her mother looked right now meant she was angry at something. She got out of there as fast as she could, hiding down the hall to eavesdrop.

"Who is it you're going to see this time?" Elsa's voice was dangerously low as she stepped toward him.

"I'm going to the Southern Isles, you know that, Elsa. I'm busy, after all. You said it yourself. '_He's a busy man'._" His tone was ever so slightly mocking, cutting in its own way. He didn't bother contesting it, knowing she was suspicious of him either way.

"What could be possibly so important there that couldn't be dealt with at it's own pace, _after_ your only child's birthday?" Her voice was shrill and she knew it, but she didn't dare stop. "You've been neglecting the both of us, Hans. This secrecy needs to stop-"

"Elsa, please." He cupped her face in his hands to cut her words short, embroidered blue gloves perfectly fitted to his shortened few fingers.

"Hans, I—" She closed her eyes and covered his hands with her own.

He kissed her, just a quick romantic peck on the lips.

"Just have a little more faith in me." He whispered to her, breathless. "I love you." Elsa opened her eyes, peering up at him, "But my faith is wearing thin, and it's only so much I can believe until I can't believe anything you say anymore."

Hans only kissed her again, deeper this time, and released her face. "I'll only be gone for two weeks, three weeks tops. I promise you."

There was a weight in the pit of her stomach as she let him go, watching him leave.

* * *

He's gone for two months this time, and Elsa grew worried at first until she resigned herself to the fact that Hans had to have left her for good for a woman who didn't freeze everything over in the bedroom the morning after. She knew it would come to this eventually, but Elsa didn't know it would hurt this much. Petra missed her father most of all. It all but broke her heart to see the child upset this way.

"Mumma, why isn't Daddy home yet?" Petra had asked her one morning, before her lessons. It took all of Elsa's self control not to just burst into furious screaming and freeze the castle over again.

She maintained control, breathing still ragged. "He's just been busy, Petra. He will be back home before long, I promise." She wondered to herself whether her promises were in vain, and whether or not her child was losing hope in Hans ever returning either.

"Do you really promise?" Petra looked up at her; the trust in her eyes was too much for Elsa so she had to avert her gaze.

"I promise."

The tiny redhead ran to her mother and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Mumma."

She smoothed down her hair, squeezing Petra tight.

Elsa whispered into her sweet smelling hair. "I love you too, darling, and so does your father."

"He doesn't seem like it." There was truth to her statement, and Elsa sharply looked at her daughter's expression.

"He does. I know he does, Petra. He works hard to make sure we are safe." She clutched at Petra's shoulders.

The child lowered her gaze. "You could do that, Mumma. I've seen how you can use the ice to protect us."

Elsa smiled despite herself, and held Petra close to her. "I don't want to have to resort to using my powers, sweetheart."

"Daddy always said not to be afraid of using your powers though!" She insisted, stamping her feet.

"I know, Petra, but he meant you." The slight smile dropped from her lips quickly. "There are people out there who will try to make you think you're a monster, and you're not."

"Did that happen to you?" She asked Elsa softly.

There was a long period of silence. "Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I am back fully, and chugging along, churning out all these fics for y'all. Did you see the alliteration I did there lol? Reviews mean the world to me so please, read and review. I may or may not be referencing Adventure Time in this part so. Bear with me.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Frozen, have not, and do not currently work at Disney. This is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

"Queen Elsa, I.." Kristoff was standing in the doorway; that crown she had made still perched precariously on his head.

Elsa sat up straight from where she was writing a letter to Hans she would never send, frost spattering from her fingertips in her surprise. "Is something the matter?"

"No, I just needed to talk to you." He stepped into her room and closed the door behind him, in case Anna was around.

Her chair scraped the floor as she stood, turning to face him.

"Speak then." Elsa folded her arms over her chest.

"Promise me you won't tell Anna. I don't want her to get upset." His tone was earnest, and Elsa knew something was wrong.

"What is it then?" Elsa felt a shiver run down her spine when she realized Kristoff was as cold as she was.

"I think this crown has been affecting me."

The deadly silver glint of the headpiece drew her eyes to it, and she spoke without pulling her gaze away. "Why do you say that?"

"I've been.. Seeing things, and Anna's noticed how cold I've been." Kristoff shifted where he stood, the mention of Anna making him uncomfortable.

The Queen furrowed her brow, at once able to tear her eyes from the magnetic ice crown. "What kind of things?"

Her fingertips brushed against his temples, as she reached up to lift the crown and examine it. There were white patches of frosted hair at his temples, and his skin was clammy to the touch which Elsa noted.

"_Things_." He insisted, plainly, not going into detail as he met her eyes. She didn't blink or look away, simply she held his gaze.

He covered her hand with his own. "I don't want her to worry."

Elsa's face colored just a little. "I won't tell her." She wasn't sure why she was whispering.

Kristoff let a smile cross his pallid, almost bruised looking features; he was squeezing her hand tighter. "Thank you."

Elsa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady her sudden nervousness; it had come out of nowhere. "You're welcome."

There was the sound of the door opening and in bounded Gunter, Petra trailing along beside him. The blonde boy was tall for his age, towering over his younger cousin by almost a foot.

"Mama told us to go look for you. Can we play outside in the snow, please?" Gunter begged his father.

Kristoff looked to Elsa for a moment, before looking back at his son. "Yes, we can go outside."

Anna soon appeared in the doorway, all radiant and smiling at six months pregnant. Elsa's face reddened slightly upon realizing how close Kristoff was to her.

Kristoff cleared his throat and backed off. "Anna, shouldn't you be resting? The doctor insisted you must stay in bed."

"This baby isn't going anywhere, Kristoff. I know this." She covered her stomach with her hand. "Not like the other ones."

He crossed the room with the slightest of limps and pulled Anna into a gentle embrace, kissing her cheek. Anna lay her free hand on his jaw, turning toward Elsa. "Is Kristoff alright?"

Elsa snapped out of her reverie, stepping back toward her desk and crumpling up the letter she was penning. Tossing it into the fire, she spoke. "O-oh, yes.. He's alright. I was checking to see if his crown was working the way it should."

That answer satisfied her sister, and Anna beamed broadly. "I'm glad. I was hoping it was nothing."

Kristoff met Elsa's gaze from across the room in a silent thank you, before she turned to look at the fire consume her elegant handwriting and the embossed parchment. The flames reflected in her blue eyes, and she shivered despite the heat.

"Elsa, are you okay?" Anna reached out to touch her sister's shoulder. She didn't turn.

"I'm fine, Anna. Please, just leave me alone for now. I.. need to be alone right now." Elsa's voice was shaky.

"Kristoff, take the kids outside. I want to talk to my sister." Anna's voice was the most commanding Elsa had ever heard it.

* * *

Petra was gripping her cousin's hand tightly through her mittens, in the winter chill. "Why is Mumma sad?"

Gunter was using a long stick to write his cousin's name in the snow to show her how to write it. "It's because of the king."

"My Daddy isn't the king, though. Not the king of Arendelle. Mumma's the ruler of Arendelle." Petra answered, sniffling her red nose as she was just getting over a cold.

"Don't be such a baby, Petra. Your daddy's the king of some other place, remember?" Gunter replied, underlining his work in the snow with a flourish of the stick. He handed it over to her and scuffed out the letters in the snow. "Your turn to write your name. It's P-E-T-R-A, okay?"

The redhead stuck out her tongue as she concentrated, breath coming out in plumes of steam and rising into the cold air.

* * *

"Anna, please. He's been gone too long. There has to be something wrong." Elsa pressed her lips together tightly, hugging herself despite the muggy warmth in the room. Even the windows were fogged up, but it did not feel like it to the Queen.

"You need to keep up hope, okay? Like how me and Kristoff did when we lost Agatha, and when we lost Fredrich, and all of the other babies." Anna spoke to her sister tenderly, voice tinged with sorrow.

"I'm not like you, Anna. I couldn't keep going the way you do, the way you did." Her voice broke and Elsa was swiftly fighting back tears, wiping them away with her gloved hands.

"If Hans really does care about you, he wouldn't just abandon you like this. Elsa, it hurts for me to see you like this."Anna pulled her sister into a hug.

She met her sister's eyes, and swallowed hard. "I. I guess you're right. I can't let Petra lose hope either. She's so perceptive for a little girl."

"We noticed. Gunter really is protective of her, too." Anna smiled, and held her sister out at arms length. "They're so close they're nearly inseparable."

"He'll keep her mind off of her father, I'm sure.." Elsa finally acknowledged it, and let a faint smile cross her pursed lips.

"See? You'll be okay, I promise. We'll help you through it, me and Kristoff and the kids. And before you know it, Hans will be back again, I'm sure of it."

"I just hope you're right." Elsa murmured, casting her gaze elsewhere.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Guess who is back on track with the fast updates? Me lol! This one is going to have way less sexual content than the first one, but it will still have implied content and dramatic twists that you won't see coming. So get ready, y'all. It's gonna be a wild ride. Please read and review, they're the fuel that keep me going.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Frozen, don't work for Disney, and have never worked for Disney. This is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

Anna persuaded Elsa to join them for a romp outside, despite Kristoff's worrying and fretting over his wife like a mother hen. The Queen was actually having fun and smiling, her mind off of Hans for once until Petra slipped up and exclaimed Daddy as Kristoff played with them, as the little ones chased Olaf around the grounds, Kristoff very nearly keeping up with them on his bad leg every time.

Elsa stiffened, and her face crumpled as she hastened her steps back into the castle.

"Elsa, wait!" Anna called after her, before picking up her skirts and rushing after her, Kristoff's worries be damned.

She ran into her bedroom and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the portraits and paintings in their frames.

Anna tried the door and it was locked. "Elsa! It was an accident! Petra's only seven, it doesn't mean anything!"

The only response she got in return was a muffled "Go away!" and the sound of shattered glass, or it might have been ice cracking.

"Elsa, please!" Anna hammered the door with her fist. "Just let me in."

Complete silence answered her, before the door opened and Elsa stood before her with reddened eyes.

"That's better." Anna attempted to soothe her, stepping in past her.

"I don't want Petra to forget Hans." Elsa managed to stammer out, as she added wood to the fire almost compulsively.

"He's not _dead_, Elsa. Just somewhere else. Where we just can't find him."

She stiffened. "What if he is dead? He's as good as dead if he's never coming back"

"Elsa, please, stop worrying like this. I'm sure it's nothing. Remember how Mother and Father would always be gone on trips for weeks at a time?"

Now that she mentioned it, Elsa did remember.

Anna could see her sister visibly relax. "Yeah, he's probably fine, and you're just over reacting."

Elsa sunk into the armchair closest to the fire; that was her designated spot every evening now. Soon after Anna sat down beside her, Kristoff and the children ran in, all of them covered in snow from head to foot; Accompanied by Olaf.

"Mumma, are you alright now?" Petra clambered into her mother's lap, the snow melting quickly in the heat of the fire.

Olaf's little flurry was the only thing keeping him from melting in the intense warmth.

Elsa held her daughter close. Gunter stood at guard by her chair; he really was inseparable from his cousin. "I'm sorry I acted the way I did, my darling."

"It's okay, I miss Daddy too."

* * *

"Do you admit your crimes against the people?" The curly haired soldier asked, no, _demanded_, pointing her crossbow in Hans' face. She was clad in an ill fitting guardsman's cloak, with a green armband that proclaimed she was one of those damned revolutionaries he'd been trying to quell the uprising of. Her dark skin was caked with red paint (or that might have been blood, Hans hoped not, for his own sake) and dirt.

"I admit I shouldn't have allowed myself to get caught." Hans spat, dryly. "Your little band of miscreants have made me miss my daughter's birthday."

The revolutionary grabbed a hank of his dirty hair and tugged his head backward, forcibly baring his neck to the point of her bolt. The motion absurdly reminded him of Elsa and he felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

"When we're through with you, you'll be lucky if you can even _think_ of your little bourgeoisie bastard and your whore." Her filthy teeth were revealed when the teen, that's all she really was, curled her lips in a snarl.

That was the last straw; Hans fought back. He could handle them insulting and spitting on him but as soon as they even got close to insulting Elsa and Petra, that was enough.

The girl managed to slam his head against the brick wall behind him with her grip on his hair as he swung a punch at her stomach. He saw stars for a moment, unsure if his blow even landed as he reeled, all of the wind knocked out of him when the girl reciprocated with a swing of the butt end of the crossbow at his solar plexus. He was sure he blacked out because when he came to, it was dark. He was still in the cell in whatever dank prison they had tossed him into, so that hadn't changed.

Hans winced and reached up to touch the back of his head where it felt the most tender. His fingers drew back bloody. The former prince worked up enough saliva to spit in disgust; after all, they hadn't given him any clean water to drink and his mouth tasted bitter.

A door rattled open somewhere in the inky blackness outside the cell and light shone into the tiny window. Keys jangled in front of his door and Hans readied himself to leap at the first chance he got to escape.

* * *

Elsa rolled over in her bed, closer toward the warmth beside her. She was sure she was dreaming that Hans was back. Opening her eyes, she realized she wasn't dreaming. Beside her lay Kristoff, half undressed, and unshaven. Elsa shot upright, clutching her bed sheets to her chest. He stirred in his sleep, but didn't rouse. She felt ill. Elsa didn't remember anything from the night before. Just putting Petra to bed, and then retreating to her own room with a bottle of wine and Kristoff asking to join her while Anna rested— Oh. _Oh_. Oh no.

She leapt out of bed, dressing as fast as she could before Kristoff awoke. Who knew how he'd react to this kind of betrayal of Anna.

It wasn't even sunrise yet, but Elsa couldn't get back to sleep after that, especially since Kristoff was in her bed, probably still out like a light the way he was when she last checked on him. She ended up going for a walk in the frosty quiet of the castle grounds, Olaf ending up trailing along behind her like a lost puppy.

"You look sad."

Of course only the talking snowman could read her emotions easier than anyone else. Elsa sighed. "I'm.. worried. And upset."

"Why?" Olaf shuffled in front of her, slowing her steps to a stop.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "It's Hans. He's... gone, remember?"

"Oh." Olaf looked at her, stretching out the syllables so it more resembled 'Ohhhhhh,' "And this is a bad thing, right?"

"Yes." _Was it really? Did it truly honestly matter much in the grand scheme of things? _She couldn't get those thoughts out of her head. "No. Maybe. I don't know." Elsa finally managed to whimper, covering her face with her gloved hands. "It should be."

The snowman didn't reply, knowing nothing he could say would make it better, he just shuffled along beside her in the quiet calm of sunrise.

* * *

Kristoff hadn't been sleeping at all, so Anna wasn't bothered by her empty bed. She just imagined he was probably outside in the snow. He liked being in the cold more often now. It didn't really bother her as much as it should have. He was his own person, and even if she would have preferred him being close to her, especially now that she was growing closer to her due date, he didn't _have_ to be with her at every waking moment. She had Gunter to keep her company, either way. The boy was growing taller everyday. He was already as tall as her chest and he was nearly ten.

It had taken several anguished tries for them to try for a sibling for the boy. The doctors told her she had a very low chance of having any more children, but even that slightest chance was better than nothing. Even if it meant there were so many stillborn babies, and the chance of more to come. Anna wasn't going to let that break her heart, even if she could never have another baby after Gunter. She would keep trying even if it killed her in the end.

Kristoff awoke, head pounding, to cold sheets and an even colder room. The fire had gone out, and the sun shining through the windows offered no warmth. It was disquieting, and a deep sense of profound wrongness was soaking through every inch of his goose bumped skin. He felt as if he were all alone on another world, the only one alive in this freezing silent landscape. He crossed the room to the window and could see Elsa walking the grounds, hugging her arms close to herself. He could also see a horse on it's way to the castle, bounding impossibly fast and yet seeming to be nearing exhaustion as it ran.

* * *

Elsa was about to go back inside, feeling particularly and enjoyably numbed by the cold air, when an unrecognized horse came barreling through the gates with a dead man strapped to its saddle. She called for the guards, and, along with Olaf, ran to soothe the woolly horse and pull the corpse from its secured spot on the horse. It was when she got closer that she realized it just wasn't any corpse. It was Hans clad only in thin ragged clothes that would not have protected him from the elements wherever he had come from, looking beaten up and bloody. She managed to untie the ropes and tug him down. He was heavy but she slowly lowered him to the ground. That was when she saw he was breathing.

The guards approached and she allowed them to drape a blanket over the both of them. Elsa was trying to warm him up as best she could. His lips were blue, and his heartbeat was weak, but he was breathing, and she knew he would wake if only she got him warm enough. She only could worry and wonder what had happened that brought him to this state.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Well, sorry this chapter took so long to write. I've been feeling hella bleh and not really motivated for some weird reason lol. Um, read and review? This story is going to be just as dramatic and twisty turny as its predecessor, so stick around, y'all. I love every one of my fans, you all are the reason I keep going. Thanks for standing by me in all this no matter how long it takes for me to update lol. There are notes of translation at the bottom. I don't speak a lick of Danish so I used Google Translate. If the translation is in any way off, please tell me in the reviews and I'll change it immediately. **

**Disclaimer: I don't work for, and never have worked for, Disney. I don't own any aspect of Frozen, and this is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

Elsa had passed Kristoff in the hallway as the guards brought Hans up. He looked as if in a daze, bedhead and all. She didn't make eye contact, hoping he didn't remember the night before either. The man looked half asleep as he let the guards pass, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept in weeks standing out in his pale face. Even the scraggly almost beard he was sporting was white in patches, like freshly fallen snow. His gaze was pointed forward, his feet plodding slowly across the floor. It was eerie.

The sight sent shivers down the Queen's spine, but at the same time she couldn't possibly tear her eyes away. Something about the way Kristoff was acting, seemed, _off_. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from how he normally was. It was strange, but not unheard of. Grief or stress may have affected him, Elsa didn't know what it could have been beside that.

* * *

Hans awoke, shivering, in his bed beside Elsa, despite the heat of the fire. The cold permeated his very bones, like Elsa was emanating it.

She had nodded off, her head on his shoulder; it looked as if she didn't even get a chance to change her , honestly, was the truth. She had not left his side in the entire time it took for him to regain consciousness.

All he really remembered was making sure to tie himself to the horse he'd stolen from the revolutionaries to keep from falling off if he'd lost consciousness from the cold or his wounds. The first thing he managed to say upon waking was one short phrase, uttered without a trace of irony: "I hate the cold."

A smile of relief crept onto Elsa's face. "What about me?"

He closed his eyes and drowsed for a moment before speaking again. "You're not cold to me, Elsa."

Her face burned and she lay her heated cheek against his chest.

Hans' whole body felt stiff and ached fiercely, but he relaxed, laying his arm across her back, knowing he was finally back at home, safe and sound with Elsa.

She awoke slowly, blinking her eyes in the midday light.

"Mmn? Hans?" It took her a moment to register she wasn't dreaming, but as soon as she did, she hugged him tightly. "I'm glad you're home. I.. I thought you left us for good."

Hans sighed, pulling her close to him, "Why would you even think that?"

Elsa easily reciprocated the embrace, kissing her husband's bruised and scraped forehead affectionately. There was only so much bandaging they could do, and so many superficial wounds from exposure marring his freckled skin. "It had been months, Hans. It was either that or you were dead."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Do I look dead to you?"

"Only half it." She replied, meeting his eyes, attempting to sound serious. Hans could tell she was fighting a smile, though, by the way the corners of her lips rose.

* * *

Kristoff left the castle early one morning, still half asleep and found himself face to face with Meinhard somewhere off in the forest. He recognized the area, so he knew he wasn't lost, but that wasn't what was bothering him. Kristoff couldn't put his finger on it, but _something_ felt wrong.

His father smirked broadly as soon as he saw him. "Long time no see."

The mountain man's hair was cut shorter and curled slightly at the edges the way Kristoff's did. With his hair no longer as long as it was, Kristoff didn't recognize him at first. That and the petite dark skinned girl in the oversized blue overcoat beside him that stood out among the snow.

His father clutched the girl's tiny childlike hand in his own massive meaty mitts. "We were looking for you."

The girl had a voice that sounded it had been used either rarely or way too much; it just felt so commanding, Kristoff couldn't help but be compelled to listen and obey. "We want you to join our cause."

"What cause is this?" He couldn't hide the suspicion in his voice, as he narrowed his eyes. "You've might have heard of Den Oplyste ." When Kristoff didn't show any signs of understanding, she went on. "We also call ourselves Sommerens Lys" We believe everyone is created equal under the sight of Heaven."

Kristoff paused, listening carefully. That was something he could easily believe in and follow. "Go on."

"Our... group strives to bring everyone to the same level of equality."

"I get it. That's a good thing, I guess.." He turned to Meinhard. "And why do you want me to help?"

"You're close to the royal family, aren't you?" Meinhard asked.

"Yes?" Kristoff wondered where they were leading this conversation.

"I'm sure you could help us try to make everything better for the rest of us." The mountain man supplied, as the girl stared him down with her intimidating look.

"I suppose I could." Kristoff answered, weighing his options. It wasn't something he could easily outright tell Anna, but he trusted his father enough to be sure he wouldn't lead him astray.

"Do you think you will join us?" Meinhard offered his hand, a hand sewn green armband in his palm.

Kristoff covered the band with his own hand. "Yes."

Finally the girl spoke up after a long moment of silence. "I should tell the others then. To make preparations." Meinhard silently agreed and then she ran off into the forest, blue overcoat still visible amongst the trees as she drew further away.

The mountain man glanced back to his son. "So how about that?"

He was silent for a long moment, voice impassive. "You and she seemed close."

"Yes. Magga and I have been.. seeing each other." Meinhard sounded embarrassed at telling him, giving Kristoff a smile and a shrug.

"So much for loving my mother then." Kristoff hissed, this sudden aggressive attitude and outburst coming out of nowhere, voice harsh as ice crackled down his face from his temples. His fist tightened around the armband still in his hand. "Did she throw herself at you or did you pick her before she was old enough to consent?"

Meinhard blinked in surprise for a moment before he roared at him, gaze steely. "She's been dead for years, son. I'm not going to live my life alone for the rest of it if I can help it."

Kristoff made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat as if to say _of course_.

"Magga may be twenty years my junior, but she's sweet on me. And she knows how to handle a crowd."

"She looks as if she's sixteen!" Kristoff exploded, fighting to get his father to see his reasoning, an impossible to placate rage rapidly rising in him from an unknown source.

"She may be small but she packs a mighty punch." Meinhard shrugged, wondering what had gotten into him, his tone snippy. "I don't see why I have to explain myself to you, boy."

Kristoff scoffed and turned, before he started to walk away, back to the castle. Everyone had to be awake by now.

The mountain man called after him as he strode away, leaving Meinhard still standing there, in shock. "What has even gotten into you?"

* * *

Den Oplyste - The Enlightened (Danish)

Sommerens Lys - Summer's Light (Danish)

**AN: _Modern Danish_? In _my_ Frozen story? It's more likely than you think.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Two updates in one day? Jeez, guys, I'm so spoiling you omg. So, I hope you like this chapter. I'm trying my best to crank out chapters at least on par with how they were in Open Doors. Reviews are my life, my darlings, so please keep that in mind while you read. Translation notes at the bottom.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any aspect of Frozen, nor have i ever, or currently work at Disney. This is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

Seeing Magga now, one would not believe she was the same soldier dwarfed by the guardsmens' coat that held Hans captive for months. Of course, Kristoff did not know this at all. Her face was cleaned and free of blood and dirt. even her teeth were clean, albeit crooked in places and chipped. She wore a beatific smile, one Kristoff found himself easily trusting. The only thing that tipped him off was the green armbands they both wore, embroidered with silver thread that matched the color of the frost surrounding them. Only when he looked closer did he see the design was that of a simply outlined flaming sword, done entirely in silver.

Kristoff wore his matching band, feeling like a part of something bigger than a family for the first time in his life.

Magga was walking him through the city, in areas that he guessed neither Elsa or Anna had even seen. "Look at these people. Look at their suffering. We should be able to help them, all of us." She had taken him to a slum, where children ran, not at all dressed for the cold, underfoot at all times.

He looked around in awe, the dissonance, between the poorest of the poor in the city and the admittedly cushy lifestyle he was swiftly growing used to, making his head swim. "Why have I never seen this before?" Kristoff's voice was shocked.

"The Royal family of Arendelle wishes to hide it away, I think."

"Anna would never let her sister do that!" He was incredulous.

"You should ask her then. Maybe she doesn't even know." Magga raised an eyebrow at him, used to the disbelief of new initiates.

"Queen Elsa wouldn't keep that from her, would she?"

"You won't know until you ask."

* * *

Meinhard had left the two of them to talk while he meandered up to the castle. He couldn't deal with Kristoff this time around, in case he snapped at him again with that sudden unbidden anger he hadn't expected in the slightest. The boy had no right to accuse him of cradle robbing, not when Magga had done so much to help him.

She understood loss the way he did, and introduced him to the rest of the group. All of them had lost someone at the hands of their so called royal family, many of them from before the current ruler of Arendelle had risen to power. He knew that feeling intimately, and fit in easily with the rest of them.

The previous king, it seemed, was heavy handed when it came to corporal punishment. Meinhard had discovered that soon after Jekaterina was killed. All of that free time led him to read through the annals of whichever kingdoms' histories he could get a hold of, which wasn't easy, since it seemed the histories were kept from the general population. From what he had seen, what the girl and the Oplyste had opened his eyes and shown him, it was clear something had to change.

Magga was his savior. She appeared to him as if out of nowhere one day, and offered him knowledge and a way to help others less fortunate, as if she had sought him out just to lead the people to freedom. Meinhard jumped at the chance, and the girl whisked him away. He had mentioned his son to her in casual conversation, when she asked him to tell her everything about him. He trusted the innocence she seemed to exude and told her everything about him, before spilling how he found her so incredibly beautiful, it was impossible to think straight around her. Magga accepted him as he was and admitted she had fancied him from afar for months. That was when she insisted she meet Kristoff. And now here they were; the closest thing to a real human family Kristoff had ever had.

* * *

Hans glanced to Elsa beside him. The poor woman looked run ragged, her hair a mess. He let her sleep, as he began getting dressed in the fine clothes he missed dreadfully in that filthy prison for months. Those damned soldiers took everything he had on him, even the miniature portrait he had had done of Elsa and Petra he kept with him always. Probably used as kindling by now. The thought sent anger searing through his veins and he clenched his fist against the top of his leg where he was sitting, fighting it.

They had no right to any of it. Hatred burned in him, straight to his core, pure unquenchable loathing for that revolutionary pixie girl and the rest of her nameless ragtag team of mercenary soldiers. They had no_ right_.

He closed his eyes, thinking back to the dark cell.

Whoever the group claimed to be, all they said they wanted was whatever information Hans had about both Arendelle and the Southern Isles. At first. He only told them the bare minimum, even when he was threatened with being a permanent fixture of the prison, or even worse, death as an enemy of the revolution. Even then, he refused to say anything that would incite the wrath down upon his family. Especially when they gave him the option to join them or die. That was always a nice and cheery option to think about.

It was at that moment when the revolutionaries began to make more disturbing and erratic demands, like that he step down from the throne and allow chaos to reign over both Arendelle and the Southern Isles. Something in his chest twisted in fear when he heard they knew who he was, and intended to take whatever it was they set out to do to his homeland as well.

He always spat back at the girl who demanded the information of him, and she would release an inordinate amount of rage she seemed to hold pent up in that tiny childish body of hers. The last time he did it was before he escaped, and she had left him alone in the silence, only to come back wearing the coat of one of his guardsmen. Hans only recognized it because the man had mended it several times with mismatching thread in several places where it had been torn or nicked. She was brandishing an old crossbow; the same one his guardsman, Alexei, always carried with him, religiously. It even had his initials carved into the handle. The girl insisted she had killed Alexei (who had just barely reached his twenty first birthday in the service of the royal family and had a girl waiting at home for him; he only knew because Anna, sweet innocent Anna made it her goal to get to know every one of the guards and servants, and exclaimed everything she had discovered in a verbal diarrhea to Elsa at the dinner table) and the splattering of blood across her face proved it. It was to scare him into telling her everything, he was sure, even when he had no real guarantee they would let him live after. Hans expected they would kill him if he gave them the chance. He wasn't going to give them what they wanted anyway. Hans could not be sure whether she was bluffing or not, but he knew his guard would not have given up his overcoat and crossbow that easily. Even now he could see the manic look on her face when she slammed his head into the brick wall of the cell whenever he closed his eyes.

* * *

Meinhard managed to make it to the castle by noon, taking shortcuts through the woods. When he came across the majestic stone fortress, he noticed two guards were leading a particularly wooly horse away to the stables. If he hadn't have known better, he would have said it was his. It certainly looked like it. But that was impossible. Virvatuli was stabled with the rest of Magga's group's horses. Meinhard shrugged it off as a bizarre coincidence, and strode up to the gates. Tearing his armband off, he looked to the guards. They must have recognized him for they opened up the gates and allowed him entry, one of them even tapping his shoulder where Meinhard would have worn the armband. It must have been some bizarre kind of salute because he returned the gesture and a small wave. He wondered what on earth his brother had been up to in the time he hadn't seen him. Which was almost seven years now. Meinhard had been with Magga all that time. Now he felt like he needed to see Hans and apologize for all of that lost time while his darling Magga was busy getting to know Kristoff. He hoped this meant he was starting to be more accepting of Magga.

* * *

**AN:**

**Fun fact! Virvatuli is Finnish for Will O' The Wisp! I chose it because it's a cute ass name for a horse and it sounds poetic, despite not being Danish.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I'm so sorry this update took so damn long. It's been a long time, I know. Lots of stuff happened in my life, okay. I got a job, and that eats up so much of my time. Also I've been battling really bad writer's block, and have been attempting to force my way through writing a bunch of original stuff. xP I will however try to keep updating on a regular basis. Please enjoy this. Also reviews are great. I like to see what my readers are thinking about my stories. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any form of Frozen (not even on dvd!), don't work for Disney, and never have. This is a not for profit fanwork. Thank you for reading.**

* * *

"What do you think you're doing here?" Hans had stopped him at the door. The man looked as if he had just begun the arduous task of recovering from a long illness.

"What happened to you?" The sound of worry was clear in Meinhard's voice.

Hans clenched his fists, knowing he probably looked terrible. He knew he felt it. "Royal business," was the cryptic reply he gave.

The mountain man scoffed. "Looks more like you were locked away somewhere for the last five years. Queen Elsa hasn't been keeping you in a cage, has she?" The traces of worry were gone, replaced with a smirk.

"No. I haven't done anything to warrant that." He ground out through his teeth, not having the patience to deal with his brother.

"Oh, really?" Meinhard ruffled his brother's hair as he shouldered past him; while Hans testily swatted his gloved hands away.

He sighed, letting it go. "Where have you been, it's been ages since you've been here."

"Been busy, just like you've been, I'd suppose." Meinhard shrugged. "I heard you had a daughter. She'd be, what, seven now?"

"Eight," Hans corrected him wearily, leaning against the wall.

"Where is she?" Meinhard glanced about him, ears straining for the sound of a child.

"In her lessons, with her cousin."

The mountain man brightened immediately. "How old is he?"

Hans squinted at him for a long moment, attempting to figure out why his brother needed to know. "Almost twelve. And mighty protective of Petra."

Meinhard laughed softly at a private joke Hans was not aware of, while he continued to talk over him.

"They're betrothed already, and Elsa is convinced that it's a perfect match."

"A betrothal, really? They're children, Hans."

Hans looked at him for a long moment, his gaze piercing. "I damn well know they're children, but I'm not allowing Petra to be hurt by any callous suitors or men with only money on their mind."

"Like you? I've heard some things about your history with the royal family of Arendelle." Meinhard raised an eyebrow. "Now isn't _that_ hypocrisy at its finest."

"I was never in control of my actions, you know that!" Hans slammed his hands down on a nearby table he had begun leaning on, his legs still barely willing to cooperate.

"I wonder if Elsa would agree." His tone was cutting, as he rounded on his half brother; the mountain man bared his teeth like a wild animal. Hans could not even believe they were related at this moment.

"Don't you dare say another word about my wife." Hans' tone was threatening, a low growl in his throat like a dog.

"Or what, the cripple will try to attack me? Did you finally get retribution for what you did? Is that what _this_ is?" Meinhard leaned in toward him, so they could be eye to eye, since the mountain man towered over his brother.

Hans launched himself at him, knocking Meinhard into the nearest mantle where they had been standing.

The mountain man didn't even bother fighting back, knowing if he did, Hans would definitely be injured worse.

"You know I'm right." He picked himself up off the hearth, and shoved past his brother. "I'm going to pay a visit to your wife."

* * *

Hans closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale, his shoulders resting against the mantle beside him until he was sure Meinhard had left him alone.

As he opened them again, he realized his brother had left something on the floor. It was gritty from the leftover ash, but Hans wiped it clean. The green cloth was a cheap scrap of fabric, the kind that is easily forgettable.

The part that caught and held his attention was the beautifully crafted hand stitched silver thread in the outline of a flaming sword. He was sure he'd seen it before but could not place where; the filigree stitching made him dizzy to look at it. Some part of him felt sick at the sight, and he nearly swooned; gripping the mantle in one white knuckled hand, Hans caught his breath.

Tucking it into his pocket with a still trembling hand, he found himself retracing Meinhard's steps to Elsa's chambers.

* * *

He could hear voices coming from the children's' playroom. Curiosity drew him forth, his footsteps clicking in the empty hallway past Elsa's bedroom.

Soft incomprehensible speech in a deep man's voice through the door was all he heard, and then the piercing sound of Elsa's laughter. Not even bothering to listen anymore, Hans opened the door, gloved hand shaking with barely repressed envy, and some sudden upwelling of weakness, one he couldn't believe he was showing.

What he found behind the door surprised him. Elsa was sitting in the rocking chair, holding the red headed child to her chest. Petra was sucking her thumb, an unbecoming trait for a young lady. That habit, he had not noticed, did not appear until he had managed to get home.

Meinhard, his giant prick of a brother, had to be regaling them with some joke or another. The mountain man was a born showman, that was for certain. Elsa glanced up at him, a mirthful smile still halfway across her face as she smoothed back Petra's hair.

The other rocking chair was occupied by a particularly gravid Anna, looking positively radiant as she glanced upwards toward the open door, in Hans' general direction. He felt a tiny stab in his chest, somewhere deep down, when she met his gaze, and she knew he had to be taking in what she looked like. Anna sheepishly was the one to tear her gaze from his.

Kristoff, the giant lumbering oaf, Hans always irrationally disliked him, squeezed her shoulders, to comfort her it seemed, a motion Elsa could not help but watch, following it with some interest. The gesture was too intimate and Hans had to look away.

"Of course my brother has to barge in and ruin the moment, as always." Meinhard's attitude was still scathing.

"Hush." Elsa all but commanded, as Petra sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "He is my husband, after all."

Meinhard conceded to her words, and bowed his head before stepping out of the way. "Perhaps I should leave then, since I'm unwelcome around my brother."

Hans stood up straighter, brow furrowed. "Perhaps you should." He took a step sideways, allowing Meinhard to pass. Petra hopped from her mother's lap, taking toddling steps toward her father, confounded thumb still stuck fast in her mouth.

"Darling, you're a big girl, you know big girls don't suck their thumbs." Elsa called from the chair, before standing up as well.

She cast a backwards glance toward her sister and, of course, Kristoff met her gaze. She was unable to tear it away for a moment, the man's once-brown eyes magnetic. She assumed it must have been the way the blue began to swirl in his irises, mixing with the brown to look like a torrential flood about to sweep her away.

Elsa released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding when Kristoff looked away.

Hans had been saying something, she wasn't listening.

"What?" She turned toward his face, which loomed closer than it had before.

"I said, you look as if you've seen a ghost." Hans took her arm, gripping it too tightly in his trembling fist, as if he needed the support to walk.

She covered his hand with her own, pulling the tight grip looser. "It's nothing. I just." She sighed, not wanting to chance another look over her shoulder at Anna. "I'm just tired, that's it."


End file.
